


Hope for tomorrow

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post Season 7, Post-Canon, Season 8 Wishlist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Battered and broken in the war, Jaime and Brienne seek shelter in a cave to escape the dead. They share a tender moment.





	Hope for tomorrow

The sun had set, filling the sky with a deep orange glow. Sinking to the ground in exhaustion, Brienne had lost count of the number of hours they had trudged along in the snow, in an attempt to seek refuge for the night. Battered and wounded, they wandered around desperately in search of some place to protect themselves from the white walkers and wights and everything else that prowled the darkness beyond the now non-existent wall. They had been among a handful of the lucky survivors in a massacre, with the army of the dead slaughtering most of their men. She and Jaime had been fortunate enough to get away, counting their blessings as they roamed around aimlessly, lost and broken, looking for that one tiny ray of hope. Their eyes searched far and wide for a thread to hold on to, one that might get them through this difficult hour, thin as it might be.

Brienne had broken a leg, while Jaime had taken a sword to his stump. While neither of them had suffered any life threatening injuries, they did risk freezing to death and contributing to the wight army if they didn’t have a roof above their heads soon.

“There,” Jaime pointed to a cave in the distance. “We should be able to make do with that.” Wrapping his good arm around her again, he hoisted her to her feet, supporting her as they ambled towards their supposedly safe haven for the night.

To her surprise, the cave was unnaturally warmer than outside. Atleast the cold wouldn’t kill them for as long as they stayed put here. Picking a corner, he helped her sit down. “Let’s hope they don’t find us in here,” he slumped to the ground next to her, breathing heavily.

Brienne winced, the pain gradually returning to her leg as her body thawed. She didn’t know if they would last through the night, she didn’t even know how severe her injury was. All she knew was if she happened to die tonight, she would die in the arms of the man she loved. That thought alone gave her all the solace and comfort that she needed.

“This place is warmer than I expected,” Jaime observed, looking around. “Now let me see how bad your leg is, my lady.” He lifted her damaged leg gingerly as if it were a fragile piece of glass and placed it on his lap. Pressing his palm to her thigh, he examined the extent of the wound. “There might be a broken bone or two,” he murmured. “Nothing that Tarly can’t mend, I hope.” Removing her boots, he gently rubbed her foot attempting to restore some warmth to it. Glad that the cave was nearly dark except for the faint glow of twilight streaming in, she hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. She wasn’t even sure if the sudden wave of heat spreading through her body was due to the foot massage or because he was so agonizingly close to her.

“It doesn’t look that bad, I’ll be fine,” she said dismissively, trying to put up a cheerful front, hoping that it might distract her mind and body from the varied sensations she was experiencing, not everything necessarily due to her injury. “That is, if the dead don’t get us before dawn. It’s your wound I’m worried about, Ser Jaime.” She pulled her leg away and turned to him. Getting the heavy fur coat off his shoulders, she checked his stump-arm, running her fingers along the bloody tear in his shirt that the blade had caused. Tearing his sleeve off completely, she tied the cloth around his wound, hoping it might stem the bleeding.

“It’s just a bloody stab wound. I’ve been through much worse, wench,” he chuckled, looking at his missing hand. “I’ll be fine if--” he trailed away, staring into the distance.

_IF… that was indeed a very big IF…_

They sat there in silence, waiting for the night to pass, having only each other for company. Brienne didn’t flinch when Jaime wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his touch sending another surge of warmth through her body. She moved closer and rested her head on his chest, savouring the comforting feel of his body against hers.

_This is it_ , she realized. The end was most probably near, with the uncertainty of waking up to tomorrow's sunrise hanging like a sword over their necks. She couldn’t hold back anymore. It was now or never, and she had to let him know.

“Ser Jaime,” she began, her voice choked with emotion as she looked into his eyes with a sense of urgency. “Should something happen to me, if I don’t survive the night, I just want you to know that--”

The words died on her lips when Jaime’s mouth was on hers. He kissed her with a hunger that she recognized only too well, for she too was as desperate as him. She was as needy for him as he yearned for her. She kissed him back fiercely, wanting to show him with this one kiss how much she loved him, more than anything else, more than her life. He had to know how badly she missed him, how much she ached for him. She had to make him aware that she couldn’t live without him. They went on and on, with both of them momentarily forgetting the state of their battered bodies, and neither of them holding on to the inhibitions that had been restraining them all these years.

“I already know, Brienne,” he gazed at her affectionately when they broke apart. “I’ve always known.” Cupping her face, he caressed her cheek fondly with so much love in his eyes, that there was no need for words. Not everything had to be said. With them, words had always been redundant, for they spoke with their eyes, and somewhere, in a remote corner of her heart, she had known for a while that Jaime loved her. His long, lingering glances had already told her that.

Before either of them could realize it or restrain themselves, their clothes lay discarded, and their bodies were enveloped in each other’s embrace. As skin touched skin, and flesh melted into flesh, there were no more barriers, no Stark or Lannister or any other name to hold them back this time. When they held each other, there was no telling where she ended and he began. They belonged together, atleast for tonight, if not for the rest of their lives.

“It’s been years, isn’t it?” Jaime mouthed into her chest, his lips tracing the scar the bear had given her, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not anymore,” she gasped, as he kissed the wound tenderly, setting every inch of her body on fire. Their hands roamed everywhere, and so did their lips, as they explored each other leisurely under the darkness of the cave and the warmth of the fur covering them. There was no hurry. After all, time was something they had in abundance tonight. They had nowhere to go at the moment, no battles to be fought, no vows to be fulfilled. All they had was each other. She took him into her, and they became one in every possible way, body to body, mind to mind, heart to heart and soul to soul. When their desire culminated in their union, she closed her eyes in a silent prayer to the gods, wishing for this man to be a part of her life, if she were lucky enough to have a life after the war. When he held her close, when she felt his heart beating against hers, she wanted nothing more than this moment to last forever, never to be separated from him, never to be lonely for the nights to come.

Jaime kissed her again when they lay in each others arms, exhausted, but blissfully content. “Well, I thought this would be the worst night of my life, but I was sorely mistaken. Little did I expect that _this_ would happen,” he smiled, whispering into her lips. “But as the saying goes, if something wonderful comes out of anything bad, one should not complain. So if I were to perish tonight, I would die a happy man.”

Brienne ran a finger down his chest. “And if I were to die tonight, I wouldn't die a maid,” she said shyly. “You’ve made sure I’ve been stripped off that title.”

“If the gods were to listen to my prayers, I would wish for you to _live_  as my wife, wench,” he said, his eyes shining. “A life together, a life with me in a keep in Tarth, with a dozen children running by our side...” he gazed at her dreamily.

Brienne was moved to tears when she heard this. “If we survive--”

Jaime once again silenced her with a kiss. “ _When_ we survive the war, Brienne...” he breathed into her lips. “There’s always hope. We will live.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, this cave is the Jon-Ygritte cave, and I do wish for for a JB scene in S8 in a similar setup ;)  
> I know it won't happen, but a girl can hope...  
> Thanks for reading and do let me know if you liked it.


End file.
